


12 Days of Christmas

by desperationandgin



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-26
Updated: 2014-12-26
Packaged: 2018-03-03 16:30:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 13,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2857481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/desperationandgin/pseuds/desperationandgin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Regina, Robin, Henry, and Roland prepare for Christmas in the 12 days leading up to the event.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day One

**Author's Note:**

> This was for the first annual Outlaw Queen Secret Santa event on tumblr. My giftee was starscythe who asked for no angst, but maybe fluff and smut. So, I combined the last two and hoped it might be something she liked. I think it was a success! And now, here it is in all twelve parts. It was much easier to post them as 12 chapters to rate them individually. Some are much shorter than others, and some are rated M. You'll be warned before each smut chapter.

It’s quickly becoming apparent to Regina that the smell of forest, of pine and wood and smoke, doesn’t bother her at all. In fact, it does quite the opposite. That particular smell is now home and warmth. It’s family and the empty hole in her heart finally filled. Even now, outside in the forest of Storybrooke - with travel mugs filled with hot cider, Henry and Roland running ahead to search for just the right Christmas tree, and Robin, ax over his shoulder, walking beside her -  it feels right and perfect.

She is happy, peaceful and content, and it’s not a feeling she ever expected to have so she revels in it, soaks it up and breathes deeply. The boys suddenly start yelling in excitement, though Roland is mostly jumping up and down and mimicking Henry, repeating shouts of ‘this one! It’s perfect!’ There isn’t a time she can remember before Storybrooke that any kind of celebration excited her, when the solstice festivals had made her happy. She’d received gifts to be sure; expensive baubles and dresses. And there had been smiles accompanying kisses for the crowd gathered. But those had meant nothing and she’d taken to burning the gowns the king gave her; he never noticed. Now though, now she is being given holiday love notes every day from Robin with the first explaining that he isn’t sure about a fat, yet jolly man delivering gifts (which sounds a lot like Little John to him), but he’s willing to get on board and make this as enjoyable a holiday as she deserves. He’s learned everything Regina can think of, including a fair handful of the easier ‘gather around the piano’ style Christmas songs. She loves him for it more than he can know.

He steps away from her side as they approach the tree that has apparently won the search and Regina circles it, frowning a bit. “It’s not too tall. But it is wide. I’m not sure this can go through the front door, Henry.”

“We can tie it down mom, and then once it’s inside, cut the ropes. This one’s perfect. It has to be this one.”

If anything, she figures she can use magic to get it home. She knows Henry and Robin will both say that’s spoiling the fun of it all, but seriously, she’s not mutilating the tree just to get it inside. “If we have any problems, we’re poofing.”

“Let’s poof it!” Roland squeals ecstatically. He loves watching that more than anything, seeing things disappear and reappear somewhere else. She doesn’t do it for herself much anymore, but more for his delight, hiding his toys for hide and seek sessions that leave him feeling wildly triumphant when he finds whatever it is he’s looking for.

Just as she thought though, and as if on cue, Robin and Henry both speak. “No magic.” Henry adds: “Not on the tree. It’ll fit. C’mon, mom.”

She holds up a hand, raising both eyebrows. “I never said it absolutely wouldn’t. I’m just saying if.”

“C’mon, mom. You have to have a little hope,” he grins.

Her eyes roll and she takes a sip of her cider, taking Robin’s from him so that he can begin chopping. “Next time you see your grandmother, tell her no one gets a quarter for a tree fitting through a door.”

“I actually think I might not mind a bit of magical assistance when it comes to chopping down this tree,” Robin says with a wide gesture toward the pine.

“Oh, no. You all wanted an authentic experience, I’ll let you have it,” she announces with a smirk right back.

He gives a mocking deep sigh because truly he’s not put out, and the kids step back toward Regina as Robin begins chopping. Roland is bouncing on his toes, so excited because he has no idea what’s happening, but it’s fun and they’re together, and there’s going to be a tree in the house which is enough for him.

Also enough for Regina? Watching Robin chop, and one eyebrow is raised as she takes in his very, very fine form. The lines of his body and determined look on his face makes her extremely happy, lips parting a bit in a quite pleased smile. No, she’s not helping with this. She’ll watch as long as it might take. Which, as it turns out, isn’t long enough. The tree comes down and both boys cheer as Regina laughs and Henry steps in again to help secure the limbs in order to drag it home.

Cold noses and rosy cheeks re-enter the warm house, and what no one knows won’t hurt as she walks ahead and uses her magic to make all of the furniture in the way disappear. Sure enough, there’s too much going on with navigating limbs and Roland trying to help by yelling out directions. The doorway, as it turns out, is big enough, and she’s given an ‘I told you so’ by Henry. The tree is placed in its stand in the study, righted, and the room feels too small now but in a wonderful way, in a way that means in twelve days they’ll be gathered together opening the presents that will no doubt be piled high.

“Is there any chance for more cider and a break?” Robin asks, his jacket off and sleeves pushed up now to his elbows.

“Yes, you three please busy yourselves in the kitchen while I sweep pine needles,” she urges, shooing the boys along.

“You’re coming with us, right Regina?”

That sweet little voice of Roland’s and those eyes and dimples all combine and for now, for right now, the pine needles are forgotten. “I’ll come,” is said after glancing at Robin and finding him smirking. He knows full well the predicament those dimples can cause. But for now, the cleaning can wait.


	2. Day 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here be smut. Already.

The decorating is done, there are lights and ornaments and a star on the tree, and the kids are both tucked away in bed when Robin and Regina sneak back downstairs for hot chocolate with an adult, alcoholic twist. Plugging the tree lights in, Regina curls up with Robin on the couch under a large quilt, tucked into his side.

“I remember my first year here, having memories of what this holiday was supposed to be and I had no idea what in the hell all of it was about. Presents delivered by a man in a red suit because a baby has been born? I  _still_  don’t understand,” she says as Robin chuckles warmly.

“I’m finding myself a bit confused, but in full disclosure, it’s been quite wonderful seeing you so incredibly festive.” He bends down to kiss the top of her head, and as they finish their cocoa he puts his mug on the coffee table, helping take hers to do the same so that he can hold onto her, fingers stroking up and down her arm.

“I love the lights on the tree,” she murmurs softly. They’re multi-colored this year, pink and blue and orange lights. Green too, and they slowly fade in and out in different sections.

“They are fascinating,” Robin agrees, but he’s watching the way they reflect on her skin, on the way they seem to make her glow each time they light back up to their full brightness. “In any case, it might be difficult to find anything more beautiful in Storybrooke.”

Regina shifts a little, twisting so that she can see his eyes. “Are you talking about the tree or something else?” All she can do is yelp lightly at the end of her sentence as he gently grabs her, bringing her to his lap and helping her shift so that one knee is on either side of him.

“I happen to be speaking of the extraordinary woman right in front of me.”

She looks behind her shoulder, laughing when he pulls her back. “You mean me?” she asks, teasing.

“Oh, I’ll always mean you. Is there ever any doubt?”

There’s a pause that goes on too long, and she opens her mouth but he’s already stopping her.

“Then I must assuage all of it, every thought that you might not be the singularly most extraordinary woman I’ve known.” And with that he kisses her deeply, one hand moving to the back of her head as he fuses his mouth to hers. The kiss, while being tender and languid, somehow manages to be urgent and laced with an undercurrent of latent need and want. “Just as I’ve always known,” comes his declaration when they part. “Extraordinary kisser, too.”

“Stop,” Regina laughs against his lips, and then they’re kissing again, her tongue gliding against his bottom lip before he opens his mouth to her and she kisses him deeply, her own hands finding purchase at his side and the back of his head respectfully. His hands are on the move, she realizes, pushing up at her pajama top until she stops him. “The kids could come down,” she whispers softly.

Pulling his hand back, they could go upstairs, but instead he tugs the quilt that had been discarded over her body. “Is that modest enough?”

“No,” she deadpans, and she’s serious because it isn’t enough to be topless. But it is enough for her to stand for a moment and remove her pajama bottoms and underwear. He gets the idea and quickly removes his own before she straddles him again, the quilt covering enough that parts are well hidden.

Never one to be denied her breasts, however, Robin gets creative, palms first coasting under the fabric of her top until he can cup her in both hands, thumbs grazing over her nipples. He delights in her whimper and pinches one, then the other, and both are hard in a matter of moments. His hands run over them, rough and calloused against soft and pliable flesh. “Also extraordinary.” He feels her laugh against his skin as she presses her lips to his neck, hips rocking lazily against his. For a long while, it’s kissing and touching and again, he’s captivated by the lights playing on her skin. She’s rocking against him steadily though, so he reaches, needing to touch and feel. When his hand tucks between her thighs he finds her warm and wet which causes him to groan in delight. “I do this to you?”

“Always,” she breathes out, eyes fluttering closed when he presses his thumb to her clit, rubbing in slow circles while she rocks. “But you know that.”

“Perhaps I enjoy hearing what I do to you,” he counters. He can’t quite angle his fingers into her, not without bending his wrist awkwardly, but his thumb keeps moving, dragging in a slow back and forth. “Tell me.”

Her lips part, eyes opening as she looks at him and realizes he’s serious. He wants to know, and suddenly she’s struggling for words. “You make me….” She closes her eyes again, still rocking against his hand. “…Wet. You make me need you.” She can feel his intake of breath at her words and she gasps when he moves faster, forehead furrowing and jaw dropping. He’s perfect; he’s focused and alternating between long downward strokes and quick circles, moving faster and then slowing down to draw her out, to tease and drive her absolutely crazy. “You feel…oh, God, you feel amazing, and I need…” She’s beginning to tense, head falling forward even as she grabs at his wrist to stop him, making him grunt in confusion. “I need to feel  _you_.”

When he realizes, Robin lets his hands slide to her hips, fingers hot, thumb slick with her arousal as he guides her up a bit. And then his head falls back to the couch when one of her hands wraps around his cock, stroking from base to tip slowly. He’s hard for her, gets lost in the feel of her hand and groans, trying to stifle the noise the best he can. But when she guides him into her body and sinks down, he is lost, he is in heaven, and the groan of pleasure he makes comes from deep in his chest. She is so tight around him, and hot and wet, and he keeps his hands on her hips to make sure she doesn’t move just yet.

Her lips are parted, eyes half-lidded, and she waits, waits as long as he needs before slowly raising and sliding back down again, and he fills her, she can feel every ridge of him, every glorious inch as they move together. She needs more, needs something, and she leans forward to wrap an arm around his shoulder, bracing her free hand against the couch as her hips tilt down just a bit. When he pushes into her again  _that’s_  the angle, and she bites at her bottom lip, moving faster now, moving with purpose. “Right there,” she gasps. “There, Robin, don’t stop.”

He helps her move, hands guiding her hips, and he’s so concentrated, unable to see between them to watch, so he focuses on her face. She’s beautiful, always, but now her lips are full and red and swollen, skin flushed, and when her eyes open they’re blown wide with pleasure, slightly unfocused. She moves faster, pulsing around him and that’s the end of his visual experience, unable to keep looking as his stomach knots, as she gives in to what she wants. Her cries are low and her nails dig into his shoulder but then she jerks, ruts against him, and she is gone, coming around him and dragging him with her, doing her best to get him there even as she moves out of rhythm, her hips wild against his now. He pushes up again and again, hands at her waist as he guides her, and when he lets go he feels her shudder, and this is bliss. Pure, unadulterated heaven.

Her body sags against his, both of them breathing heavily, sweat making her hair stick to her neck. His palms rest at the small of her back, lips dropping to her shoulder over fabric. Soft words of love are murmured between them, hands stroking, noses nuzzling into one another. The lights reflect off of sweat dampened skin a little differently, a little brighter, and his finger drags down the curve of her neck. “As I was saying,” he breathes out, heart slowing its racing just enough to allow him a coherent thought. “You, my love, are extraordinary.”

Regina can’t quite argue with his assessment.


	3. Day 3

Regina is not a last minute person. She can’t stand it, and what she can stand even less is a crowd of people all with the same idea in mind. And so, it’s early Sunday morning when she decides to take Henry and Roland shopping for Christmas gifts in an attempt to avoid crowds. Henry insists that he already has hers, mysteriously says he’s been working on it for a while, and Robin took Roland shopping the day before getting the tree. So, it’s shopping for Robin, and she’s hoping to subtly shop for both boys too, though she hasn’t quite decided how to navigate that.

“I have to get presents for Roland, and it has to be a surprise,” Henry announces. “So…can I go by myself to a few stores?”

He’s old enough, doesn’t need to be with her every step of the way, and Regina lets go of Roland’s hand, instructing him to stay right beside her as she digs into her purse. “That’s fine. Now I can shop for you without you being nosy,” she replies with a smirk before handing him an envelope with shopping money. “When it’s noon, we’ll meet at Granny’s for lunch. Got it?”

He nods resolutely and takes the money. “Got it. Granny’s at noon. See you soon!”

He’s off, and Regina watches him for a moment wistfully, realizing not for the first time how incredibly grown he is. But then she looks down at Roland and smiles, taking his hand in hers again. “What should we go get your papa?” she asks him, leading the way toward shops the opposite direction of Henry.

“I…think…he needs…” Roland is thinking deeply, little brow furrowed. “Somethin’ in there,” he points. The store is sporting goods, and he tugs at her hand eagerly. “Outside stuff!”

She has to admit that even if she’d like to get him something other than anything having to do with being in the woods, Roland has a point that Robin is as outdoorsy as a person can be, so she leads him inside. “Don’t touch anything,” she instructs gently.

He really has no idea what anything is, but when he spies something that fascinates him, he points. “What’s  _that_?”

Regina guides him toward where he’s pointing. “These are called binoculars,” she answers, and she allows him to hold the display model. “If you put it to your eyes, you can see things that are very far away. Like this,” she shows him.

When it’s his turn he giggles like mad, turning in a circle as he looks. “These ones! These for papa,” he’s already decided. And they’ve been in the store for all of five minutes but apparently, binoculars are the winner.

“How about we look around a little more and see if there’s anything else you think your papa would like. And if you don’t think so, then we’ll get these.”

He seems to consider what she’s saying and then nods. “Okay, maybe there’s other stuff.”

They walk around for a good half hour and Regina finds some warm things for Robin that he can wear, since he does so often insist on visiting his Merry Men who have yet to migrate indoors. She gets matching things for Roland in the smallest vests and sweaters before she sees Roland’s eyes widen and his jaw drop.

“ _Look_!”

She follows him and has to admit, he has an impressive eye. He’s pointed out one of the largest tents she’s ever seen in her life, and she circles around it, eying the price tag.

“We can all fit in this one! You can come with us more!”

She does like the idea of all of them camping, of being able to stretch out, but this is a lot, and she’s not sure it’s the right time to spend so much. “I have an idea,” Regina decides, kneeling down so that she’s at eye level with Roland. “You get him something else now, one of the other things you liked, and then for his birthday, you, Henry and I will all get him the tent. One big present from all three of us. What do you think about that?”

Roland’s head tilts to the side a little, he looks back at the tent, and then he gives her a firm nod. “I think that’s good. I can get him the ben…bencol…” He can’t really say it, and he looks up at her again for help.

“The binoculars,” she provides with a soft smile, taking his hand. “Let’s go buy those, and then we can meet Henry for lunch.” Once everything is bought, it’s only a short walk to Granny’s and Henry is already there, munching on a plate of fries. “You’re getting something else with that, I hope,” Regina informs him as she gets the bags in the booth first, then Roland, then finally sits.

“I’m a growing teenager, I had to get something to hold off the hunger while I waited,” he explains with a satisfied smile.

She rolls her eyes affectionately, letting out a huff of a laugh, and when Ruby comes by, Roland happily orders chicken strips and french fries, Henry gets a burger, and Regina opts for Granny’s fish of the day, though she does wind up with fries as well. And all three of them have chocolate milkshakes because she’s feeling festive, and it’s the holidays which are full of calories and fun, and why not?

“How would you feel about taking Roland so you two can do shopping and I can shop for both of you?” Regina asks once lunch is coming to a close and Roland’s scraping at the bottom of his milkshake glass with a long handled spoon.

“Sure. Roland has to get a present for Little John, and I need to get something for Emma. Do you think she’d like a fancy hot cocoa set?”

“As long as it comes with cinnamon, I think she’ll be a fan,” and she’s mentally cursing at herself because she needs to get Emma a present, and she forgot, and  _what_  in hell does she get for the other mother of her son? Booze, is the easy answer. She’ll get Emma nice, expensive wine, or scotch, and that should do. “Hold Roland’s hand please, don’t let go of him, and call me if something happens.”

“We’ll be fine, mom. Roland and I like hanging out together,” Henry says gamely.

Eying them both, she slides out of the booth to let Roland out. “Listen to Henry, okay?” she instructs, making sure his coat is back on and zipped.

“Okay!”

“And hold his hand.”

“I will!”

She can’t help a kiss to the top of his head before addressing Henry. “We’ll meet here again in an hour so I can get something for Robin to eat, then go home. Do  _not_  be late or I’ll assume the worst and tear apart the town looking for you both.”

Henry smirks at that. “I know.  So we’ll be early and eat a cookie while we wait.”

She watches them leave then, hand in hand, and lets out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding. She’s struck again by how impossibly mature Henry is, at how much he seems to genuinely enjoy playing the part of older brother, and she smiles softly standing right in the middle of the diner, the boys long out of view as one hand rests lightly over her abdomen. She could do this again, she thinks, and she leaves Granny’s after paying, thoughts of Christmas and her boys pleasantly on her mind.


	4. Day 4

“New arrows. The boy got me new arrows?”

Regina laughs and shakes her head, eyeing Robin. “No. And stop trying to guess. You have to be surprised on Christmas.”

“No hints?” Robin asks with a pout as they walk through Storybrooke together, her hand safely tucked into his.

“You could try, but you won’t get it, and I won’t help.”

“Well, that’s quite alright, I happen to know what you’re getting. From both boys.”

Regina eyes him then. “That’s not very nice,” she pouts. “You started guessing, I didn’t ask to know.”

Stopping in front of Granny’s for a moment, Robin tugs her close and kisses the pout (that is adorable and cute) before speaking. “What if, to soften the blow of being teased about presents, I give you something now?”

When he pulls back she’s smiling. “The kids would be so put out to know they didn’t get to open a present early.”

“What the children don’t know won’t hurt them. Come on,” he urges, taking her hand again.

“We’re supposed to be shopping for them together, by the way.”

“Yes, and all the shops will still be there in an hour. This is far more important.”

Regina smiles again, letting him lead her out toward the woods. “We’re going to your camp?” she asks curiously.

“Not quite. Close,” he hints, and then they’re quiet for the ten minutes it takes for her to start realizing what he’s done.

There are white lights strung up in the trees immediately surrounding them, and when she asks how it’s possible, he explains he had a bit of magical assistance from Emma. There’s a blanket spread plus a spare to cover their laps, a basket of food and a bottle of wine. “I thought perhaps a quiet dinner for two with no children might be needed with the commotion of the week and the next few days,” he explains.

The smile on her face can’t be wiped away, and she turns to look at him, trying to find words and coming up short. Instead, she finds herself with blurred vision and his hand on her cheek, suddenly worried.

“Regina?”

She shakes her head to try and assure him somehow as she fights to stop crying, hating that she is. “I’m sorry, it’s perfect. This is perfect.”

He relaxes a bit at that, then presses his forehead to hers. “Then what is it?” he asks softly, moving to cradle her face and let his thumb graze her temple.

“It’s  _you_. This. All of this that…I’ve never had before. It’s  _good_ , Robin. It’s so good.”

Robin’s lips press to her forehead when she’s done speaking, and he gathers her close. “You’ll have things like this and more, Regina. You deserve them. You’ve spent a lifetime thinking you don’t, and I have the pleasure of helping you see that you do. And I intend to keep doing it until a simple picnic doesn’t make you cry.”

“I like these tears,” she counters, her hands moving to his face as she smiles softly. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had happy tears.”

“Then I suppose it’s a job well done then?” he asks with a smile wide enough to showcase his dimples.

“Oh, indeed,” she laughs softly against his lips before kissing him deeply, arms wrapping around him tightly. They sit and eat, they curl into each other under the blanket for warmth, and by the end of the meal she’s sure that this isn’t it, that he’s planning something else. He goes quiet and every now and then kisses her softly.

“It’s probably a little cliche to say things like ‘being with you is the happiest I’ve been in many, many years’ during the holiday season, isn’t it?”

She has to laugh because that means he’s seen enough residual holiday movies on television to know. “I think I can give it a pass. Give  _you_  a pass.”

He’s pressing his fingers into her palm, easing something into her hand. “Good. Because being with you is the happiest I’ve been in many, many years.”

Regina goes still, the forest quiet around them, and when she opens her fingers there’s a ring, simple but elegant. Her breath catches in her chest, makes her throat tight, and she shifts to look at him, sitting up now. “I told you once I never thought I’d have this,” she manages to whisper, every obstacle, every trial and tribulation they’d been through at the forefront of her mind.

“And now you do, and it’s never going anywhere again,” he assured her, reaching out to take the ring and slip it onto her finger. “I can promise you that.”

Somewhere in the midst of kisses and crying she tells him yes, she’ll marry him, was there ever any doubt?

He tells her no, absolutely not, and they celebrate the night by picking gifts for their children, Regina’s ring a welcome weight to their joined hands.


	5. Day 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut ahead!

There’s something about the feel of new lingerie, she thinks. The way lace and silk feels and the way the cups make her breasts look, well, amazing. Not that she’s ever been given a reason to think they  _don’t_. But the lift this particular bra gives makes everything look just a little bigger. Not unrealistic, just…round and full. Contemplating herself in the mirror, she takes a look again at the hunter green matching set, picked on a whim this morning on a shopping trip to buy clothes but not necessarily  _this_. The sales girl had joked, “Green for Christmas? Festive!” Regina didn’t bother to explain that no, it’s dark green for Robin and forest and reminding her of the scent of pine. It doesn’t have to mean anything to anyone but her. Them. Her engagement ring catches her eye as she runs her fingers through her hair and she smiles, she smiles every time she sees it, and decides she looks fine. In ten minutes (or less), the state of her hair will be the last thing on her mind.

Stepping out of the bathroom, Regina stands in the doorway until Robin looks up from the book he’s reading ( _Little Women_ , which makes her smile) and promptly drops it to the nightstand.

“…My love.” And he can’t say anything else, he’s speechless and she’s victorious.

“You like it? This shade of green happens to be elusive in the ‘pretty underthings’ department of the store,” she remarks with a sly smile, slowly making her way to the end of the bed.

He leans forward, crawling, meeting her halfway. “Who do I write to give my thanks that this particular set was there when you went shopping?”

Her laugh is cut off by his lips, and it turns into a soft hum of appreciation into his mouth when his hands cup her ass. He’s on his knees and she’s still at the edge of the bed so he has to duck down to kiss her. She pulls back so that she can move onto the mattress but he stops her, sitting back on his heels and letting his eyes rake over her thoroughly. She flushes, can feel her skin turning a nice shade of rosy pink, and it’s all arousal at the way his eyes darken and she can see him harden against his briefs.

“Sit on the edge of the bed,” he commands softly, moving to get up and walk around to face her.

She obeys, wets her lips, and then his mouth is on hers again while his hands trail down her sides, his fingers skittering around her back to move up and down her spine, making her whimper as her eyes flutter closed. Her own hands aren’t idle, moving across his torso, his hips, until one sneaks down to cup him, gently squeezing only to elicit a groan.

“Not yet,” he murmurs, gently (reluctantly) pushing her hand away. His mouth drags down her neck, he sucks at her pulse lightly, and then kisses down, across the curve of her breast. He seems to be a man on a mission as every part of her chest is covered with tender kisses that may be soft but are laced with heat. His hands move, cupping and holding onto her, thumbs dragging heavily over her nipples through the fabric.

The moan that draws out of her is unexpected; she loves the attention he pays to her breasts, she always has. But tonight it feels electric somehow, her muscles tensing and relaxing, heat pooling between her thighs. He takes notice, does everything again, and soon her hands are clutching at his hips, lips parted as her breathing picks up just a touch. “Take it off,” she whispers, nearly pleading. “Please, take it off.”

Fingers that are sure of themselves find the hooks of the bra and soon the straps are sliding down her shoulders and he wastes no time; his lips wrap around a dark pink nipple and suck until she is making soft sounds in the back of her throat that he craves hearing more of, always. His hand is paying attention to the opposite breast as he moves his mouth, tongue circling the hard peak of her, the scruff of his beard scraping against sensitive skin.

Her whimpers turn into moans, they are constant now and she can feel her belly tightening, the want and need so incredibly overwhelming that she finds herself lying back which forces his mouth to move down her body, and he’s game, he goes with it and begins to slowly kiss down her chest, down her stomach. She can feel him shift and kneel, drag her hips to the edge of the bed and tug down the last of the fabric that keeps her from him.

“Exquisite,” he murmurs, lips dragging to her inner thighs. She is beautiful when she’s aroused, from the sounds she makes to the way he can see what he’s done to her as he parts her thighs. And then his mouth is over her, he licks her up and revels in her stifled moan, unable to suppress his own groan.

When her back arches he reaches out to bring her back down, hand resting lightly on her stomach and she reaches for a moment just to rest her hand over his. It falls away as his tongue dips into her and she can’t think for a moment other than  _be quiet_ , so she bites at her bottom lip as her hips rock the best they can with him holding onto her. He is perfect at this, he is fucking amazing, and she realizes she’s saying that out loud when he switches from tongue to fingers.

“I do pay attention,” he murmurs, and as if to prove a point his fingers curve and he finds the place that makes her cry out before she can stop it, and not even his free hand on her belly can keep her from jerking as his mouth lands on her clit, tongue stroking back and forth in quick lashes before his lips suck and she is failing miserably at keeping her moans in check. It’s a struggle, and he loves hearing it, loves that it’s because of him. Backing off just a little he brings her down from the edge, wondering if he should take her now. He’s so hard and so very, very wanting, but the prospect of tasting her as she comes is too much and so he moves in earnest again. He sucks at her, harder and with pure intent as his fingers move faster and he adds a third.

It’s only her own hand moving over her mouth that keeps a moan from turning into a scream, and she’s breathing so unevenly and shallow that she thinks she may pass out, and then it all explodes and she can’t do anything but feel. When she comes she gasps, she’s managed to keep the loud cries at bay, but she jerks and writhes and clutches at the sheets with her free hand. She’s not completely aware of when he stops, but she’s plenty with it when he shifts back onto the bed, hovering over her with both palms flat on either side of her head so that he can kiss her. Somewhere in there his briefs come off and that’s fine by her. She can feel him against her belly, hard and hot,  and she reaches down to wrap her fingers around him, to stroke slowly from base to tip.

He groans as he bends his head, the sound low in the back of his throat. His hand wraps around her wrist, not moving her, but guiding them together into her, connecting them, and God, she’s wet and hot and tight, and this isn’t going to last long, Robin knows. But he does start slow, watches her face to make sure she’s good. It seems to be a looping thought, that she is beautiful, that she’s magnificent, that he never wants to stop doing this to her. He loves her, he’s going to marry her, and she is perfect. His hips move faster, her lips part, and one hand moves so that his thumb can trace her bottom lip, that full, pouting flesh. He can feel it when she begins to tighten, when she is close, and he reaches between them to press fingers against sensitive flesh, watching as everything begins.

The pleasure feels like slow motion and a freight train all at once, her back arching, hips writhing, and then he touches her and every single coherent thought she might have had is out of the window. Her jaw drops, eyes close, and she is gone, coming and so glad for his hand when it covers her mouth as her fingers fist in the sheets below them. She feels hypersensitive, can feel every perfect inch of him moving in deeper thrusts, gasps when his fingers stop only for a moment and then move again so fast that she can’t process it. She has no idea if she’s still within the throes of her first climax or if this is a completely new one but she doesn’t care. She doesn’t give one single damn as her breath falls hot against his palm.

He moves harder, he moves with intent, and then he is rutting against her, his groans short and clipped until he’s spilling into her, their bellies pressing together, his hand falling from her mouth, head bowing. As his hips slow his fingers stop against her clit, tapering off until he’s simply resting against her, breathing hard, eyes closed.

Tugging him up with her as she shifts onto her side, Regina curls herself close, neverminding the warmth they’re sharing, the sticky sweat. She doesn’t care, she needs this, needs him, and she drifts blissfully. His words, when he can find them, are low and rumbled.

“That garment was truly inspiring,” he manages.

Her laugh begins as a snicker, then turns into outright delighted chuckling before she captures his lips. “It didn’t stay on long.”

“I could fetch it for you,” he offers in jest, moving to get up until she pulls him back and into her arms.

“I like it better this way.”

She’ll never find him in disagreement.


	6. Day 6

It starts snowing around six in the morning, when Regina wakes out of habit and puts on her robe, slipping downstairs to set the coffee for an hour from now. She sees the first flakes falling and then it’s heavier and for no reason other than the power of suggestion, she shivers and makes her way back upstairs, slips her robe back off and slides back into bed, snuggling against the warmth of Robin and drifting. When she wakes again, it’s to fingers brushing across her hip lightly and her eyes flutter open, a smile gracing her lips. But any early morning activities are curbed by the sound of an excited shriek and then a squeal.

“ _Snow_!”

“Roland is awake,” Regina laughs softly, and Robin kisses her smile.

“I’ll attempt to keep him from leaping face first outside. At least until after breakfast.” Rolling out of bed, he slides pajama bottoms on, then a t-shirt before leaving the room to make his way downstairs.

For a moment, Regina lays in the warmth of his wake, burying her face against his pillow and taking a moment to reflect on the fact that this is truly her life, Robin is truly her fiance, and her family is downstairs, eager to fill their bellies, eager to play outside. It’s enough motivation for her to get up, though for a moment she’s slightly off balance, vertigo making her reach out and steady herself. But it passes and she slips pajamas on, then her robe over them before going to cook. She can already hear Henry conspiring to get chocolate chips added to the pancakes he thinks they’ll be having. Both he and Roland have their heads together, Robin is pouring coffee, and there’s a moment when their eyes meet, both of them sharing a smile that’s mostly gratitude that their children get as well as if they’d always been together.

When the breakfast rush is over, the kitchen (somewhat) clean and bodies dressed warmly, the backyard becomes grounds for a snowball fight - but only after Regina promises not to magically enhance her snowballs. It’s she and Roland against Henry and Robin, and she isn’t sure if anyone’s really winning or losing. It’s a flurry of hurled, compacted snow while powdery flakes are still falling quickly from the sky. While Robin’s back is turned, Regina gathers what she can in gloved hands, forms her ball slowly and sneaks behind him, bringing a finger to her lips so Roland doesn’t give away the surprise. She winds up, gets ready to throw, but before she can, snow is hitting her square in the face, jaw dropping in surprise at the sound of Robin laughing, loudly.

“Oh, my love, I knew you were close behind me, but I didn’t realize it was  _that_ close.”

Sputtering, she wipes snow out of her eyes, the launches her own ball right at him, getting him in the chest before she’s tackled, arms going around her waist as she shrieks. Henry’s no help, the traitor, cheering Robin on along with Roland, and soon Regina finds herself on her back, pinned down as the kids laugh.

“I yield,” she pouts playfully, knowing he’ll kiss her and he does, which makes Henry head for kiss free areas of the yard with Roland.

“I never took you as one to surrender,” Robin remarks playfully, still over her and grinning.

“Yes, well, it depends on who has me cornered.”

“Ah. So you’re saying handsome men do the trick for you?”

She laughs and wriggles a bit, but he bends and kisses her, his lips cold against her own even as she melts into him. But when they part, she speaks. “Only one handsome man in particular.” Catching his mouth again with her own, it’s another minute before he lets her go and they sit up together, shouting out that now’s the perfect time for hot cocoa. When she finally stands she sways a bit and he steadies her, looking a bit concerned.

“All right there, love?”

Nodding, Regina is quick to reassure him. “Too much breakfast. My stomach is telling me I should have known better. But there’s still room for cocoa, I promise.”

Robin’s hand sneaks around her waist, pulling her close to kiss her temple. “Let’s get you warm and under plenty of blankets. Boys!” he calls again, leading Regina inside the house.

It’s perfect, it’s all everything she’s wanted but stopped letting herself hope for a long while ago. Her family. Her loves.

Finally, her _life_.


	7. Day 7

Regina’s in that very warm, sleepy, post-huge dinner state as she sits tucked into the corner of the couch, listening to the sounds around her. It’s a couple hours after their family dinner; the men are doing the cleaning, Roland and Henry are playing an easy video game, and Neal is in Emma’s arms, dozing contently. He has the right idea.

Snow stops speaking mid-sentence (what she’s talking about Regina has no idea, she’s zoned out) and looks at her step-mother. “Robin told me you’ve been dizzy lately.” She’s trying for conversational and innocent, but her voice comes out a little high pitched.

Waving it off, Regina just shrugs a little. “Only a couple of times. It wasn’t even worth mentioning. I don’t know why he did.”

“He said you’re not eating much during the day.”

At that revelation Emma looks up too, raising an eyebrow. “And you’re starving later?”

Looking at both women, Regina is the last to get it and becomes impatient with whatever they’re not saying. “ _What_?”

Smiling a little lopsided, Snow exchanges a look with her daughter before speaking again. “Have you thought about the possibility that you might…be pregnant?”

For a moment there’s nothing but silence as Regina stares in shock between both women. “No, I’m…. _no_ , it’s not…” All she can do is trail off then because…is she?

“I have a pregnancy test if you want to find out now.”

“You thought you were - again?” Emma asks her mother with an arched eyebrow.

“Things happen, but I wasn’t, and…there’s a test left over,” Snow offers, looking at Regina.

All that she can do is nod dumbly and then they’re all three getting up from the living room before Snow shoves the test in Regina’s hand. Alone in the bathroom, Regina stares at herself in the mirror, blinking quickly. She’s not…unhappy at the idea, but this isn’t what she’d expected  _now_. But she might not even be pregnant, it could be a fluke, and now she’s trying to remember when she last had her period, realizing that holy shit, she is late. Very late.

So, pee on the stick. She does, washes her hands, then takes the test upstairs so they can all wait together for two minutes. And never in her life did she think she’d be doing this with two women she used to actively hate, but here they are, and she’s so nervous that she’s pacing.

“Regina, you’re making  _me_  nauseous,” Emma complains, laying down Neal on the bed where he stays fast asleep.

“It’s going to be fine if you are, Regina. Emma and I have both been through it, we can help. And I think I still have most of my maternity clothes you can wear.”

That makes Regina outright laugh. “No. I’ll be pregnant, not fashion backward. I’ll manage my own clothes.”

“First we have to know if you are. What does the test say?”

It takes her a minute to even look down, and then she’s sinking down to sit on a chair, just staring at the two pink plus signs that mean yes, yes she’s pregnant.

“I’m…” Laughing tearfully, she looks up at them both in shock. “I’m having a baby. Robin and I are…” She has to tell Robin, and she knows he’ll be happy - ecstatic, even. But she wants to make it special. “Neither of you are to say anything. Understand?” Which means at least two of the men downstairs will know before morning. “I have an idea to surprise him.”

“Neither of us wanna ruin this for you, Regina,” Emma promises.

Looking at the test again, she throws it away before taking a deep breath and letting it out. “I’d like a moment,” she announces. When Emma moves to take Neal, Regina holds out a hand. “No, leave him. We’ll be fine.”

Snow and Emma head back down to the living room, and Regina sits on the edge of the bed, taking the baby into her arms (though he’s not all that baby sized any more), and gently holding him, remembering a time when Henry was this small and cuddling into her neck. She’s going to have all of that again, but this time she won’t be alone. This time it will be a flurry of feedings and diapers but with Robin. “I haven’t done this in a long time,” she murmurs to Neal, kissing his temple and rubbing his back. “Think I’ve still got it?”

“I think you’ve never lost it,” comes a voice at the top of the stairs, and she looks up, finding Robin’s eyes on her. “I wondered where you’d gone, came looking for you. Everything all right?”

She has to hide her face for a moment against the side of the baby’s, and she nods, smiling softly at Robin. She takes in his eyes, the curve of his face and the slope of his nose, thinking about their child having dimples as deep as his. Her smile widens as he sits next to her, and she leans in close to press her forehead to his.

“Everything’s perfect.”


	8. Day 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut ahead!

It’s the last weekend day before Christmas, and Henry’s spending it with Emma doing last minute shopping, eating too much candy, probably, and letting Roland tag along. Which means that Regina and Robin have the house to themselves, but she leaves for a half hour to buy something of her own, bringing it back to the house and hiding it for now. It has to wait until Christmas, this gift for Robin, and she smiles in satisfaction when it’s well hidden in her sock drawer. Downstairs, with both boys gone, she pulls out their presents, planning on wrapping on the living room floor when she’s suddenly being yanked under the doorframe of the study, an arm right around her waist. She laughs softly, tilting her head back to look at Robin. “What are you doing?”

“Well, tradition does state that when under the mistletoe, you must kiss the first available person.”

“You picked up on tradition quickly. Did you do some reading?”

“How could I not, when there’s one specifically for kissing a beautiful woman?” His hands rest at her hips then and he pulls her in for the kiss, tongue gliding along her bottom lip. When he pulls back, he hums against her mouth. “I believe I need to be more thorough.” He guides her so that her back is against the wall now and kisses her more fervently than before, fingers threading through her hair and tugging just gently.

“Kids…”

“Are gone for the day and won’t be back until supper.” His mouth  moves down her neck, kissing every inch of skin he can even as his fingers work to push her blouse off. “And I have more kissing to do.”

Shrugging her shoulders to get her shirt down and away, she watches as he takes a moment to get his fill of her breasts in dark red lace before bending to kiss the curve as far as he can, tongue gliding over fabric and a nipple, making her gasp out loud. He teases, playing with the clasp of her bra behind her back but not undoing it, making her whimper with want as he nuzzles at the opposite breast now. And she knows what he wants, knows exactly what he wants to hear. “Take it off, Robin,” she breathes out, tugging her bottom lip between her teeth.

With nimble fingers the bra is unhooked, the straps falling down her shoulders. When she’s bare to him he finally captures a hard nipple between his lips and she hisses, lightly pressing at his shoulder.

“Gentle,” she instructs softly.

“Apologies, milady,” he murmurs, tongue taking a more careful approach this time, gliding over her flesh as if sampling a delicacy. His work isn’t complete until her skin is flushed and she’s panting softly. Then, and only then, does he begin his slow descent down her body, hands unbuttoning her pants, pushing them down her hips until he’s kneeling in front of her. He leans in, presses his mouth to her over the last  bit of remaining fabric between them, and her cry of pleasure goes straight to his cock, but his hands move to tug down silk, drawing one of her legs up over his shoulder.

“I don’t…don’t  _think_  this is where the kissing was intended for,” Regina breathes out with a laugh, but she keeps a hand firmly on the back of his head so that he doesn’t get any bright ideas about moving or stopping. Though when his tongue moves through her folds she realizes she has nothing to worry about, moaning loudly and closing her eyes, giving in to what he’s doing. And God, he does it so well. His tongue seeks, drinks her up, and then drags heavily across her clit, drawing a long, loud moan from her, hips pressing to his face, free hand pressing palm down against the wall.

He’s only encouraged by the sounds she makes, and when she’s writhing the best she can while standing, his hand slips between them, a finger sinking into her, then pulling back out, then in again with a second finger added, crooking them forward to find that spot inside of her that he knows undoes her completely. And sure enough she cries out his name, arches and shakes as his lips wrap around her now, sucking as his fingers move. He’d had plans to draw this out, but then she begins making these  _sounds_ , and all he wants is to hear more, to hear her, and it becomes his goal, doing everything he can to push her into oblivion.

Robin doesn’t have to wait long. She’s so wet, and aching and  _needs_  him, and she can feel it, pleasure coiling tightly in her belly as she gasps and he drives her up and up and  _up_ , and then she’s crying out, body lurching but he has her, she has no doubt about that as she sinks down into her pleasure. He doesn’t move, his lips are against her inner thigh, his fingers still moving slowly inside of her. It makes her whimper, and then her jaw drops as his tongue laps her up lightly when his hand finally moves away, resting on her hip. When he stands, her hands move to his pants, unbuckling and pushing them down. “I need you. I need…” She’s shaking with it and her words stop as soon as his mouth is on hers. She can taste herself, moans in delight, and then he’s turning her and she moves with him easily, bracing her forearm against the wall in front of her now.

It’s no secret that he’s quite appreciative of her backside, and for a moment he takes himself in hand, stroking slowly while the fingers of his other hand trail down her spine. He watches her shiver, then cups her ass in one hand. “Every inch of you is absolutely…” he trails off on a soft groan. “…Exquisite.” Guiding himself into her, the warmth makes his eyes roll back and then close, and he moves slowly, soaking up the feel of her as one hand moves up her  back, resting in the middle  with his other hand at her hip.

“Robin,  _God_ …” She reaches, tucks her hand between her thighs and moves over her clit, breathing hard and closing her eyes tightly, head against her forearm as he moves faster, pleasure ricocheting and making her back arch, body tingling with it.  “Harder,” she manages, and he complies immediately, she knows it won’t be long now, and her fingers move faster. Breathing hard, gasping with it, she cries out his name loudly, over and over again until she’s coming and it trails off into babbling incoherently. All she can do is focus on the pleasure of him moving, and then, then he shifts and that same pleasure his fingers invoked is pulsing through her and she can’t breathe at all for a second, jaw dropping. It’s unexpected, he’s never done this before, and her hand is right back where it was, moving quickly, knowing she’ll fall apart again and she does, she does and it is glorious, it’s like being flung out to the stars and pulled back by him.

His hands are keeping her from falling, keeping her from pitching too far forward, and she is so tight around him that he can’t hold on, can’t think about anything now but that, about being pulled under by her and he thrusts once, twice more before emptying himself into her with a loud groan of her name. The only sound for long moments is their heavy breathing, the sound of his own heartbeat in his ears. When he pulls back she whimpers, shivering, and he tugs her into his arms, kissing her neck and shoulder. As soon as he can process words again, his voice is low against her ear. “I think you quite like my interpretation of what’s to be done under the mistletoe.”

Regina’s laugh is light and breathless, and she has to agree, letting him encase her in his arms. “I’ve found a new appreciation,” she admits, and his laugh mingles with hers.


	9. Day 9

There are times when Regina has to sit back and simply watch what’s happening around her and tell herself that it’s all true, that this is absolutely her life now. She’s standing at the counter in the kitchen, mixing more frosting with food dye (she needs a good light brown color for reindeer) and watching Robin with Henry and Roland, meticulously decorating cookies of all shapes. She’d managed to include both boys at different stages, Henry helping her make the dough and Roland helping to cut angels, snowflakes, bells, ornaments and other patterns. It’s amazing to her, as she watches the three of them now, working so diligently, that a year ago Christmas had just been she and Henry (and only for part of the day), the year before that had been spent in a land without her son, and before that, it had gone by without mention.

Things can change so quickly, she’s realizing. Next year, they’ll have a baby only a few months old to include and the stockings over her fireplace will go from two, to four, to five. She’s stopped stirring and is simply observing, her thoughts drifting. What had her mother had against this, against feeling this way, she wonders. Regina can allow that so many things happened along the way, there were tears and doubt, but she’s here now, and she can almost stop the nagging voice in her head that tells her it might fall apart. Anything  _might_ happen. Robin’s done a good job of keeping her in what’s  _actually_  happening. When she does slip, when she’s lying in bed at night and a voice that sounds suspiciously like her mother’s begins to nag at her, he’s always there to chase it away.

“You know, I can practically see the wheels turning in your head.”

Robin’s voice snaps her out of her thoughts and she manages a little smile. “Sorry, I was just thinking about how much I love having all three of you right here, tonight.” In the morning, Roland will go to Marian’s, Henry will go to Emma’s, and they’ll both return on Christmas Eve night. It’s an odd schedule, but then, it’s an odd situation, and they’ve worked with it the best they all can.

“I need the frosting, mom,” Henry says, looking up after he places a red hot on the tip of a reindeer cookie’s nose for Rudolph.

“And how exactly does a reindeer’s nose ‘glow?’” Robin asks as he shakes some red sugar on top of a round ornament cookie with white frosting.

“Magic,” Regina replies with a little grin, bringing brown and purple frosting to the table and sitting again.

“Yeah, his nose lights the way so Santa Claus can see where he’s going at night. Or when it’s foggy, or…something,” Henry adds.

Regina had never really done the Santa Claus thing with Henry; it wasn’t of the Enchanted Forest and it seemed absurd to let someone else take the credit for getting things her child wanted. Roland though, Roland is just young enough that they’ve all decided to let him believe it. To him magic is nothing bad, it’s simply magic, and if a man is going to deliver toys and eat cookies, what’s the harm in letting him believe it for now? Henry’d had to help on that front, when all Roland had asked for was boots like his papa’s (which Regina and Robin bought together) and a scarf like Henry’s (which Henry bought). So now there’s a pile of games and books and other presents wrapped neatly under the tree with some saved to be put out ‘from Santa.’

(When she thinks about it, it’s still ridiculous, but there’s something to seeing Roland listen in rapt attention at the story of the North Pole and flying animals and one man making it around the world in one night.)

“Does Santa know I live here and at mama’s?” Roland asks curiously, looking up at Robin.

“I’m sure he can find you no matter where you are, my boy. But he has been informed by Regina that you’ll be here on Christmas Day.”

“You know him, Regina?”

She laughs softly. “Of course I do. I’m the queen, I know everyone important, but especially Santa. I told him you were very good this year, so he’s bringing you fun presents.”

“What about Henry?” Roland asks in excitement, carefully placing his finished cookie on the tray to let the frosting dry. (Which is really an uneven gloop of green, but it’s cute.)

“Henry doesn’t like to make his bed in the mornings after I tell him to, so Santa’s still deciding,” Regina smirks.

“What’s the point?” Henry asks with a shrug. “I make it, and then I just get back in it a few hours later.”

“The point is that it makes your entire room look nicer, and I asked,” she replies, wiping a bit of frosting that’s on her thumb across his nose.

“Hey!”

That makes Roland dissolve into laughter, and he dips his finger into the pink frosting, swiping it across Robin’s nose with a loud laugh.

“Well, that just won’t do,” Robin exclaims, smearing blue frosting on Roland’s cheek, and then everyone has frosting everywhere and Regina has to hold up her hands. “Okay, okay, boys, you each need to have cookies to take with you tomorrow morning so we need to finish.” She’s wiping at frosting under her eye and then sucks it off of the side of her finger, and yes, she does notice Robin staring as she does.

They finish nearly an hour later, and as the boys move upstairs to wash their hands and faces, Robin corners Regina at the sink. “I smeared frosting here precisely for this moment,” he breathes out against the back of her neck, sucking lightly at the pale icing under her ear when she tilts her head to the side, tongue licking it away.

Shivering, her eyes flutter closed as she leans against him.  “Diabolical,” she murmurs with a smirk as his hands move to her hips.

“What were you really thinking earlier?” Robin asks against her ear, kissing again at the sweet remnants on her skin.

“Nothing,” she replies, not wanting to tell him yet about their expanded Christmas next year. “It was just a good moment watching the three of you.”

Turning her in his arms, he ducks his head just a little to capture her lips. “You do look quite proud of yourself this evening.”

She has to laugh then, her smile bright as her hands cup his face. “Oh, you have no idea.”


	10. Day 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not particularly smutty, but there are hints of it in this chapter.

There are few things better than lying in front of the fireplace, head resting against Robin’s chest, naked under a blanket and drinking eggnog with spiced rum - or rather, he’s drinking it with spiced rum and thinks she is, too. She only has to get through the rest of this evening and tomorrow, and she can tell him - show him - the secret she’s keeping. For now she’s glad for still being flat stomached. Though he’s absolutely noticed her cup size went up and has accepted it as new fact easily. (More for him, he says. She’d eye-rolled with a smirk.) His fingers are gliding up and down her arm now, glasses placed out of the way when they’re mostly empty as she nestles back against him.

“When Henry was five, he made me something at school for Christmas for the first time. It was a jewelry box made out of painted popsicle sticks. He was so proud of that, had it wrapped and everything,” she remembers, laughing softly. “I still have it somewhere upstairs.”

“I think what he’s gotten for you this year is a fair bit more sophisticated than that,” Robin alludes as his lips brush her bare shoulder.

“Do I get a hint after that?” Regina asks with a soft smirk, humming at the attention from him lips.

“Absolutely not. I am a man of  honor, and I vowed not to reveal his secret.”

Heaving a sigh as if put out (she isn’t, not at all), Regina mutters. “You thieves and your codes.”

His chuckle is rich against her shoulder blade,  hand gliding up and down her hip now.  “What did you get for him?”

“Too much, probably. But it’s been a while since we’ve had Christmas together. He deserves to get spoiled this year.” She goes quiet then, thinking about those lost holidays, wondering when exactly she’d known the last hand crafted gift she’d received truly had been the last one.

“Hey, no heavy thoughts,” Robin’s voice murmurs after a moment too long of her being silent. “Everything’s fine now, and I promise you, the gift he gives you will let you know exactly what he thinks of you.”

That makes her smile softly and she closes her eyes, getting lost in the feel of his lips against her skin. “You’re right,” she sighs softly, contently, then shifts, rolling to face him and finding his lips with her own.

“Say that again,” he says with a smirk after their kiss, then laughs when she smacks his shoulder lightly, kissing her yet again. He takes care though, not to dismiss her feelings, knowing that for a long while, her life was not what it should have been. He pulls back from the kiss, his forehead resting lightly against hers. “This is why I insist on marrying you. To give you holidays filled with this. Happy memories, whether we’re here celebrating Christmas or back in the Enchanted Forest celebrating solstice with a feast. Good memories are what you deserve, my love.”

By the time he’s done she’s smiling a little lopsidedly, letting her fingers glide up and down his cheek. “I love you, you know.” She doesn’t say it as often as he does, but it doesn’t mean any less, it doesn’t mean she can’t love him with her entire soul. But she says the words now, needing him to hear it.

He beams at her, dimples punctuating his grin before peppering her face with soft kisses. “I do happen to know that. In fact, I suspect you’d not be wearing that ring if you didn’t.”

“No,” she agrees, and then her lips are parting a bit as his fingers stroke her inner thigh lightly but don’t venture to her sex yet. “You do too many things that I enjoy, I couldn’t have said no, anyway,” she murmurs, teasing. He asks her what things, she tells him, and after a flurry of his fingers, his mouth, coming, and then the feel of him inside of her, he’s letting go and she has a moment of realizing that this, this love and his want for her in all things is forever.

“I love you,” she breathes out again, then again and again, until he is wrapping her up in his arms. She’s so safe and warm and content that she drifts off right there on the floor with him, snuggled up, the blanket heavy over both of their bodies.

She misses the way Robin tucks hair behind her ear, misses it when he murmurs that he’d do anything for her. But she knows; of course she knows.

He has her heart.


	11. Day 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut ahead!

The presents are perfect under the tree, the stockings are hanging, and Robin is helping her stuff the kid’s full before Regina lightly pushes at his shoulder. “I have to put things in yours, which means you have to leave the room,” she says with a smile, then laughs when he pulls her close by the wrist, leaning in to nibble at her neck.

“All the sweetness I need happens to be right here.”

Her laugh is loud, then softer as she brings her hands to his shoulders. “Stop. That was terrible.”

“It’s true, I don’t need candy.”

“Who says I got you candy? Just because that’s what the boys have, doesn’t mean you have the same thing.”

“Oh, now that’s quite intriguing. And I managed to figure out the right type of thing to put in a stocking as well. So, I have something for you, but what if we were rebels?”

An eyebrow raises and Regina loops her arms around his neck. “Are you trying to get me to agree to opening a gift tonight?”

“Perhaps a tradition just for you and I?”

She likes the idea of this, of making something about this holiday theirs, and so Regina nods, grinning a little. “One present tonight.” There’s a minute when she thinks she’ll surprise him tonight, tell him that she’s pregnant, but they’re doing a present from stockings, not under the tree. So, she pulls hers for him out of a big shopping bag, neatly wrapped. With matching grins they trade, and she unwraps hers to find a small jewelry box. He knows she doesn’t need a lot of it, likes simple things. “Well…it can’t be a ring. I have that,” she teases, then opens it and gasps softly. It’s a necklace, a simple gold chain with the birthstones of all three of her boys . They simply slide on, and she looks up at him as he begins to speak.

“What I liked about this is that we can always buy another stone if need be,” he murmurs.

Tears blur her vision, because he has no idea how soon they’ll need to, and she’s crying before she even knows what’s happening, letting him pull her into his arms.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he’s apologizing, rubbing a hand up and down her back.

“It’s good, this is so good,” she murmurs, nuzzling against his nose. and then she’s kissing him deeply, wrapping her arms around his neck. His hands are under the silk of her pajama top, warm and gliding up and up until he’s cupping her breasts, thumbs gliding over her nipples, and she has to breathe out softly. “Not down here. Sneaky boys looking for present hints,” she reminds him. “And your present…you have to open,” Regina manages to get out as her eyes open again.

Giving her one more kiss, he picks up his gift again and unwraps it carefully before smiling at her. “You remembered what I said when we were shopping.”

“Of course I did,” she says with a smile right back, looking at his new silver watch.

“You said you wanted something to keep track of time, and I thought this was very….you.”

Robin manages to get the watch on his right wrist and then pulls her in, murmuring against her lips. “It’s perfect, my love.” His kiss is still perfectly light, and when he pull back it’s to nuzzle against her gently once again.

“Let’s get the wrapping paper in the trash and finish the stockings. And then you can take me upstairs.” She laughs when he bites at his bottom lip, like he can’t wait. As soon as the last shred of paper is in the trash, he’s lifting her in his arms, carrying her over his shoulder upstairs as she tries so hard not to laugh. She closes her bedroom door as quietly as possible from behind his shoulder, and finally lets out a laugh as he drops her on the bed.

“Now, I think I’ll unwrap my next present,” he breathes out, unbuttoning her top button by button and kissing every inch of skin he reveals. Slowly he makes his way down her body, truly peeling off her clothes layer by layer and kissing, touching, stroking. By the time he settles between her thighs her skin is flushed and when his tongue drags heavily over her, he’s delighted to find her wet and wanting. She always tastes like heaven whether he’s at her neck or between her legs, citrus and something else, something  _her_. Tongue inside of her, his thumb moves over her clit slowly, not attempting to make her come, not yet. He wants to enjoy this, enjoy her, and more importantly, wants her to writhe and moan his name.

As it turns out, he doesn’t have to wait long. She feels wound tight, her heart already pounding in her chest, her breaths coming out in panting gasps. Regina’s not sure how he does it, how he makes her fall apart this way, but soon the pleasure is pulsing through her in waves and she’s begging him for more, faster, harder as fingers rake through his hair almost frantically.

He stops. He can hear her whine beginning, but then he is in her, sinking in and he watches her bite hard at her lip to keep from crying out loudly. He doesn’t move quickly, knows it won’t take her long and thank God for that, because listening to her drives him crazy, drives him right to the edge. His thrusts are deep and he knows, knows when her entire body tips back that he’s pressing against that good spot. It’s not about speed, it’s about his rhythm, and he keeps it up, brings his fingers to her clit again, and that’s it. Only a few seconds pass before she is gasping, his name falling from her lips over and over again as she comes apart, fingers digging into his shoulders. It’s her clenching, hot and wet and tight that becomes his undoing, emptying himself inside of her with a low groan.

Regina’s hands rest against his lower  back as she catches her breath, and when he slides out of her he pulls her close, her head nestling against his chest. She’s hot, but she needs her head resting over the steady pounding of his heart. When her eyes glimpse the clock and see 12:05, she smiles, pulling the sheet over them both. “Merry Christmas, Robin.”

His lips graze across the top of her head, his voice low and sated. “Merry Christmas, love.”

After a beat, when she’s almost asleep, she sits up. “We need to wear pajamas,” she decides, getting herself up for a moment and grabbing clothes for both of them.

He grunts, waking up a bit, asking the question without ever saying words.

“Because two excited boys will wake us up in the morning without knocking.” She slips on underwear, one of his shirts, and hands him sleeping pants.

He puts them on, then holds his arms out for her and wraps her up once more. In moments they’re asleep, at least until their boys wake.


	12. Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it. The reveal to Robin. I hope everyone has enjoyed this as much as I've enjoyed writing it!

Regina’s woken by a little elbow in her side, and she oomphs as Roland launches himself on the bed. “Regina, daddy!! There’s presents and stuff in our stockings! We gotta go!”

Robin glances at the clock, reads six forty-five, and groans just a little. “My boy, things will still be there in an hour.”

“No, papa, we gotta go open them _now_.”

Laughing softly, Regina sits up and sees Henry standing in the doorway grinning, and then she leans over to kiss Robin’s cheek. “I’m excited too. And I promise, my last present to you will be worth the early time.”

Catching Roland up in his arms, Robin kisses his face, tickling a little, making the boy shriek and giggle. “All right, all right. I’m awake. Let’s go see what the fat man brought, shall we?”

“His name is Santa,” Regina can’t help but laugh as they get up, heading downstairs with a very excited five year old leading the charge. The stockings are done first, the boys luckily too preoccupied with video games and candy being poured out to notice Robin and Regina’s lack of gifts in theirs. And then, Henry looks up. “Mom, you have to open your gift first. It’s from me, but…other people helped.”

Her eyebrow arches a bit and she glances at Robin who smiles innocently.

“I’ve no clue.”

“Liar,” she laughs, and holds her arms out to receive a flat package. It’s a bit like being handed Henry’s book, and she looks up at him for a moment before pulling back the wrapping paper. It is Henry’s book, or at least, that’s what it looks like and she opens the cover to the first page, gasping lightly. There’s an illustrated picture of her, riding a horse, and the words on the opposite side read: _Once upon a time, there lived a young woman named Regina. She was kind hearted and brave, loved being outside, and liked reading in her spare time._ She goes on to read, flipping through the pages, and there’s not one story of her being evil or doing terrible things. It tells of her adopting Henry, detailing key moments in their lives, then meeting Robin, and by the time she’s done flipping through it she’s a mess, crying and sniffling, wiping at her eyes.

“I wanted you to have a book that was about the good stuff you did. Because I have a lot of good memories with you, and we’re making new ones with Robin and Roland, and those should be on paper too.”

“Henry…how did you do this?” she can’t help but ask in awe.

“Emma helped. And Snow. I did all of the writing and some of the drawing, but they helped, too.”

Reaching out, Regina pulls her son into a tight hug, kissing his temple tenderly. “I love it. It’s perfect, Henry.”

He smiles in success, then Roland gives his papa the binoculars, the boys go to town, and soon there’s one present left, from Regina to Robin. She’s surrounded by her gifts: warm slippers, a new robe, books and bath oils and soaps, and she clears some space to face Robin, handing him the gift. “I actually…got this a few days ago and have wanted, badly, to give it to you since then. It’s been a difficult secret to keep.”

“Whatever could it be?” he asks, true confusion and delight on his face as he gently moves his gifts away to give this small box his full attention. Unwrapping slowly, he looks up to see Regina biting her bottom lip and he’s perplexed at what could have her so anxious. Prying off the lid of the box, he stares for a moment, not sure of what he’s seeing before he pulls out two very small, tiny knit booties. He’s about to ask the question, when it appears to hit he and Henry at the same time and they both say:

“These are for a baby.”

Robin’s eyes immediately move to Regina’s face and she’s already crying so he knows, he knows what this means and immediately wraps her up in his arms, one hand moving to the back of her head as his own eyes glisten with unshed tears.When he pulls back to look at her, there’s a smile there that could light a dark room. “My love, you’re truly…”

“I’m pregnant, Robin,” she breathes out, and then he’s kissing her, making Roland cover his eyes with a giggle and Henry grin.

“So, I finally get a little sister?” he says, taking the booties to examine them for clues on gender, but they’re a neutral white.

“We’ll see, I don’t know yet, it’s still too early.”

“I want another brother!” Roland declares. “Brothers are fun!”

Robin laughs, and both boys are gathered close, the four of them in a group, hugging. “No doubt, boy or girl, we’ll have a very full family now.” He looks at Regina again, his eyes so, so blue and so happy as he takes her in, this woman he loves. The mother of his child still yet to come into the world.

Regina’s own eyes dance, and she echoes words said long ago, in front of a fireplace when things were still new and so much happened in between then and now. “I never thought I’d have this.”

His response is immediate, and the boys echo it:

“You’ll always have this.”


End file.
